Sorry for the short delay! I'll update again next Thursday, promise! Thank you so much for reading :3
41
- it was supposed to be us -
Edward POV
After Allie and Jasper leave and my folks go to bed, I pour one last glass of whiskey and head to the guest room.
Sitting up in bed, I finally text Bella back.
Edward: Hey. Can we talk soon?
She immediately replies.
Bella: I'd like that. When?
Edward: Are you free now?
Three little dots appear and disappear a few times before she FaceTimes me.
I accept the video call without hesitation, and Bella appears on my screen.
We're mirror images of each other, both sitting up against headboards with uncertain, tired expressions.
"Is this okay?" she asks. "I figured FaceTime would be easier."
"It's fine, yeah."
"Okay."
There's a brief pause, and I remind myself to keep it friendly and neutral because the last time we interacted was too intense and I reacted fucking horribly.
"How was your, uh, Thanksgiving?" I ask, but it feels so fucking weird not to know already.
She was supposed to be with me.
We were supposed to make breakfast together while listening to the Eagles. I was supposed to make Bloody Marys and feel her up while she was frying bacon, then make sweet potato casserole together before heading to my parents.
This isn't the life we were supposed to fucking have—separate and stilted.
"It was different but good," she says carefully, and I wonder if her mind went to where mine just did—our past lives. "I went to Rosalie and Emmett's place."
Hearing this surprises me, but I keep my expression blank. I know Rosalie extended an open invite to everyone from work, I just didn't realize Bella would be included in that.
"How was it?" I ask, grateful that Bella wasn't alone for the holiday like I'd assumed earlier.
"It was really nice. Rosalie's good people," she says with a faint smile. "I was going to give you a heads up that I'd be there in case you were there, too, but I saw you in Allie's photos and knew you were in Seattle, so. Yeah."
"So, you and Rosalie are… close."
"She's the only real friend I have in LA."
"That's not true."
"It is, but that's okay," she counters but seems at peace with it.
"What about that guy Levi?" I ask, knowing it's low to bring him up. "Where was he?"
She frowns, guarded irritation present in her eyes and tone. "I don't know. We haven't talked."
"Not since you let him fuck you?"
I regret the harsh, unnecessary words the second I say them; the second I see her face fall.
So much for being friendly and neutral.
"Are you drunk?" she accuses, and I grab my glass to take a long pull, letting the action speak for me. I'm not drunk but I'm definitely not sober. "Look, we don't have to do this, Edward. I don't want to do this if that's the way you're going to treat me. You said you wanted to talk and I thought—"
"I do. I'm sorry, but this is… I'm just… I think I need to know. I think I need to hear about whoever that guy is and how you were able to do it. You just went out and wanted to meet someone? And you did? That fucking easily?"
"No. It wasn't like that. Honestly, I don't really want to talk about it right now. And if that's why you called, to berate me and get details, then we should just hang up."
"You did that, too," I fire back. "Called me up when you were drunk, asking for details about Kim. And I told you everything. More than I ever would've fucking shared with you, Bella. Because you asked. I do so much for you because you want it. And look what it fucking gets me."
She stays silent. She knows exactly what I'm getting at.
"I know I asked about details with Kim, but we were still married. I had a right. There was still a chance we could've made us work so I felt like I needed to know. And when I slept with Levi, I wasn't thinking we'd get back together. When you slept with Kim, you were still hoping we would. So, it feels different."
I nearly fucking hang up on her after hearing that for the last three months, it was truly over for her.
My jaw ticks. Grinds.
Seconds pass.
I breathe.
I don't hang up and I don't yell "fuck you" at the screen.
It takes a lot to keep it together, but I do it for the baby. Because of the baby.
"Until January 11th, we're still fucking married," I say, clipped. "And I need to know. So tell me."
There's resignation and regret in her watery gaze.
"It was one time, okay?" she mumbles. "And if it makes you feel better, Levi doesn't live in LA. He lives in Chicago. We didn't exchange contact information and made no plans to see each other again. I don't want to see him again. And… I didn't know I was pregnant yet. If I had known, that wouldn't have happened. I promise you."
I hadn't thought about that yet—how she was with another man while my baby was inside of her.
The urge to throw my glass against the wall rises, but I push it away and finish off my whiskey instead.
"When did it happen?" I demand.
"Around Halloween. When I was in Mexico shooting a wedding."
I laugh but it hurts. "Let me guess—he was the bride's brother? His sister recommended you so he hired you for headshots, then he broke up with his girlfriend after meeting you and asked you out at his sister's wedding?"
She closes her eyes, maybe thinking back to how we met.
When her lids flutter open she mumbles, "No. I didn't meet him the way I met you. That was special, okay? That was… everything. This was nothing. Just a one-time thing. He was at the resort for a bachelor party. He was nice to me, and—"
"Never mind, I don't want to know any of this shit."
Someone was nice to her and she let him fuck her.
I shouldn't have asked.
We sit in complete silence for nearly a minute.
"Do you want to hang up?" she finally asks.
As hurt as I am, not talking to her right now would feel worse.
I place my empty glass on the nightstand, letting Allie's words replay in my mind—we need to put the baby first. Which means I need to stop punishing Bella. Need to stop torturing myself.
Need to fucking move on.
"I don't want to hang up. Let's start over," I suggest, then add, "If you want to. Please. How are you?"
I can tell my subject change doesn't convince her. "I'm fine, I guess."
"How are you feeling, I mean? With the… pregnancy."
She hesitates. "Better now."
"Now?" I echo, hating that I wasn't there if she felt sick or had any issues. "Was something wrong? Are you having morning sickness?"
She stares back at me for a few beats, her face softening, maybe from my curiosity that sounds and feels a lot like concern.
"I've gotten sick a few times but that was before I knew I was pregnant. Maybe I was being stupid but I thought my lack of appetite and emotional state was just because I was depressed or something, but… yeah. I have more energy now that I'm in the second trimester."
I nod, wanting to know so much more. Like is she eating enough now? Sleeping okay? Did she get on antidepressants like she wanted? Are those okay for the baby?
I hold back.
"Listen. Allie knows you're pregnant," I confess. "I told her today."
The soft expression Bella had before shifts to something harder, fiercer. Maybe even protective.
"Let me guess—she isn't thrilled? Thinks I did it to trap you? Or does she also think the baby isn't yours?"
"Trap me?" I laugh painfully. "That would require wanting me, and you don't. So no, Allie doesn't think that."
Her face falls, her expression turning to something else entirely. Like guilt and fucking heartache.
"Edward… that's not true. At all," she whispers. "I've thought about you so much. Every day. Most hours. I never stopped caring about or loving you. Or missing you. It's been hard for me, too. From the look on your face, I know you won't believe me, but it's true."
"You're right, it's hard to believe you. You supposedly cared about and loved and missed me but didn't do shit about it other than trying to move on," I say, feeling anxiety build. "So I don't want to talk about that right now. About us."
"We're going to have to, though. Maybe not tonight, but…"
"Not tonight," I say, adamant. "I don't know how well that conversation would go right now since I've been drinking. So just… we can keep the conversation geared toward the baby."
"You want to talk about the baby?" she asks cautiously.
"Yeah. Allie said something tonight that kind of resonated with me. Something that I hope you and I would both agree on."
I can tell Bella's wary. "Like what?"
"That we need to put the baby first. And I'm gonna try to do that."
Something flickers in her eyes but I can't place it. "You sound like someone who assumes the baby is his."
"Well… you said it was. And I believe you now."
"What changed?"
"I always knew." I scrub a hand over my stubbled jaw, then admit, "I questioned paternity because I wanted to hurt you."
"Well. Mission accomplished," she breathes out, irritated.
"Don't act like you haven't done things to hurt me, too, Bella. You're not a saint. Far from it."
She opens her mouth, then closes it. We stare back at one another. She's still guarded, and I realize that's what I couldn't place in her eyes before. She's got her walls up, but I do, too.
"You're right. I've hurt you many times and I hate that so much. I'm sorry," she murmurs, making my chest fucking ache. "But is that the only reason why you wanted to talk to me tonight? Because your sister gave you some pep talk and now you want to do the right thing?"
"I was never not going to do the right thing. I'm trying, okay? I know I reacted badly. I know I was a dick to you last week," I say honestly, almost pleading. "I'm fucking sorry, Bell. Seriously. I needed time to process. I still need time and I'm still not okay, but… I'm sorry. I hate thinking about how I kicked you out. I've been worried that I created more stress for you and scared something would happen to the baby."
She glances away from the screen and then locks eyes with me. Her gaze is glassy but she doesn't cry.
"Yeah, your reaction hurt. But on some level I understood it. And the baby is fine. I'm… fine," she mumbles. "I'm sorry, too, for showing up at your work to tell you. But I'm also so grateful Rosalie was there for me afterward. Talking to you was already difficult enough, and then everything that happened… yeah."
Guilt assaults me, thinking of Bella breaking down after I made her leave.
"That adds up. Rosalie's been giving me the cold shoulder all week," I tell her.
"Yeah, well. I confided in her. She knows everything now."
"So she hates me," I say flatly.
Bella shakes her head. "No. She doesn't hate you. She's trying to stay out of it."
"Yeah."
"I still want us to get a paternity test. I know for a fact the baby is yours, but I need you to have proof," she says quietly. "I don't want you to accuse me that the baby isn't yours when you're angry with me. That's not fair to us or our baby."
I get what she's saying. And I can't sit here and tell her I wouldn't do exactly what she's assuming. I want to be better than that, though. I want us both to be. Wanting it and achieving it is hard though when there's still so much fucking hurt and mistrust between us.
"I don't need proof. I told you, I said that out of anger," I tell her. "But… if it's something you still want to do, we can."
"We just need to order the kit from this website and mail in our samples. It's kind of pricey, though, so I was hoping we could split it. But I don't want you to think I'm out for your money or anything," she says with a pointed, hurt look.
I frown. "That was shitty of me to say. I'm sorry, okay? I don't believe that on any level."
"But do you believe I'd use our baby to hurt you?" she asks quietly.
"I mean…" I pause, unsure how to verbalize why I said that to her last week.
"Are you serious, Edward?" she asks in disbelief. "The one thing we hoped for and wanted for so long? A family. You think I'd do anything to jeopardize or purposely hurt—"
"No," I interrupt, needing her to stop talking. Needing her to not fucking say the word family again. "I think I'm just… scared of getting hurt. Of being unintentionally hurt by you again. I don't think you'd purposely try to hurt me with our baby, okay?" I clarify. "Just send me the link for the kit and I'll buy it. It was my asshole suggestion to do the test in the first place, so I don't mind."
"I can pay for half."
"Stop. I'll get it."
Another wary glance. "Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. Well… thank you."
I scrub a hand down my face. "Please don't thank me for ordering a paternity test, Bella. I feel like a big enough dick already."
She cracks a small, sad smile. "You're not. Stop saying stuff like that. I don't think that about you, okay?"
I nod.
Silence settles between us.
"After we get the results, we need to have an honest conversation. A real one. About us. About boundaries and expectations and how we want to do all of this. And depending on how that goes…" She pauses. "I just want you to be involved, Edward. To be there for appointments. For everything. I need that. And I hope you want and need that, too, but I'll understand if you… don't," she says vulnerably. "But I guess we can save that conversation for when we can talk in person. I think that'd be best."
She's stating what she needs, wants, and expects. She sounds firm. Realistic and confident.
She sounds like the Bella I used to know. The one I married. The one that was mine for many years before things changed.
It makes me feel closer to her than I have in a long fucking time. Which is why I stupidly let the next few words slip out of my mouth.
"Are you showing yet?"
"My stomach?" she clarifies, looking surprised, but a little amused. "Sort of."
"I didn't really notice or pay attention last week," I mumble. "Will you show me?"
"Sure. I've been taking pictures to keep track of the progress. I can send you some if you want?"
"Will you show me right now?" I ask, my voice almost a whisper.
"Right now?"
I swallow. "Is that weird? We're already on FaceTime, so."
"No, it's not weird," she says. "One sec."
She gets out of bed and props up her phone on the dresser, giving me a view of her room. There's more stuff in there now—some art on the wall, a different duvet. A plant. Like she's trying to make her house a home. An agonized feeling of being left behind and out of her life settles deep in my gut.
Standing in front of the camera, she angles herself sideways and lifts her T-shirt to just under her breasts. She's got on these tiny cotton shorts that I realize too late are underwear. She doesn't care if I see, I guess. Maybe because I've definitely seen her in less.
My eyes rake over her shape, landing on the small swell in her lower abdomen. Her body is different from the last time I saw her months ago. She was angular, too thin. I was worried about her. Now she's filled out a bit more; she looks healthy. But she worries me in different ways now.
"I'm still not showing too much, but I can definitely tell," she says, rubbing a gentle hand over her stomach.
"Yeah. I can tell, too." I swallow back regret and want. "You look good. You look… happy."
"I am happy," she says quietly as she lowers her shirt and grabs the phone. She lies back down on the bed but on her side this time, her cheek pressed against the white pillow. "I know this isn't how we expected things to go, but I hope you can be happy, too."
I don't acknowledge what she's saying, but I do appreciate it.
"When is your next doctor's appointment?" I ask.
"A few days before Christmas. That's when they'll let me know the gender."
"I want to be there," I instantly say.
I want to see our baby on the screen. Hear its heartbeat. I want to see Bella's face while she's staring at the monitor and finding out if we're going to be parents to a boy or girl.
"I want you there, too," she agrees, her expression tender. "I was going to ask you to go. You beat me to it."
Our defenses drop after that. At least, mine do. Maybe she just appeases me.
"Have you felt any kicks?" I ask.
"Not yet. I think it's too soon."
"Any crazy cravings?"
"I love orange juice. Can't get enough of it. And I saw a recipe on TikTok for Taco Bell's crunchwrap, and I immediately went to the store to buy everything to make it… at eight in the morning. I felt insane but I just had to have it."
I breathe out a laugh, biting back the regret I feel since I wasn't the one to run out and indulge her craving.
"That's not that crazy," I say. "It sounds really good. I was thinking more along the lines of pickles and ice cream."
"Nothing like that yet. Maybe that craving is later in the pregnancy? But I hope not because that sounds disgusting," she laughs.
"Yeah, maybe," I agree. "What are you hoping for—a boy or a girl?"
"You know I don't care," she says softly. "I'll be happy no matter what. You?"
"A boy would be nice. I could get him into sports shit. But a little girl would be cute, too… especially if I got her into sports shit."
Bella smiles. "Sports shit is a must for you no matter what, huh?"
"Oh yeah," I grin. "Come on. A newborn in a tiny jersey? A toddler playing T-ball or soccer? Nothing fucking cuter."
She laughs again, her eyes sparking with ease. "So, it's safe to say, we're on the same page. We don't care whether it's a boy or girl."
"Yeah, I guess we are on the same page." For once goes unsaid, and maybe neither of us wants to ruin this moment.
A natural silence falls over us.
She fights a yawn.
"You should get some sleep," I tell her.
"Maybe. I have two family photoshoots tomorrow. One is just before sunrise in the hills," she says, groaning. "Gotta utilize that soft blue hour."
Maybe this shouldn't alarm me, but it does. It doesn't sound safe. The idea of Bella driving out there alone, with spotty cell service, and walking around rocky hills in the pre-dawn light with a camera attached to her face. So many fucking things could go wrong.
"You can't shoot somewhere else?" I ask.
"This is what they want. And I know the shots are going to turn out really cool, so I have my heart set on it now, too."
"But you're driving out there by yourself?"
"I mean. Yeah," she says, but I still don't like it and I think my face gives me away. "I have a plan. I'm meeting the family at a nearby Starbucks and they're going to follow me because there are specific areas I want to shoot at."
"Okay," I sigh. "Just… be careful."
She smiles a little. "I will. When are you back in town?"
"I fly back early tomorrow morning. Too fucking early."
"Okay. Well." She pauses. "Have a safe flight."
"Thanks."
Neither of us says bye or makes a move to end the call.
She almost looks expectant, and then she speaks.
"Look, I know things aren't perfect between us," she murmurs. "And I know we still have a lot of shit to figure out. I doubt every time we talk there will be good moments like this. But this was really nice. And I just… yeah. It feels more real now that you know about the baby. So, thank you for talking to me."
I feel myself softening to her.
When she's like this—honest and open and fucking tender—it's hard not to. But she hasn't been like this in so fucking long. It's hard to believe it's really her.
Allie's words echo in my mind, how Bella has the potential to hurt me again. Probably worse than ever. But there are ways I could unintentionally hurt her, too.
So until we have that necessary conversation about the future, I keep it friendly and neutral. Keep her at arm's length. Protect my fucking heart, and hers.
"No problem," I mumble, ignoring the pull I feel toward her and hanging up first.